


Obnoxiously Loud, Obnoxiously Cautious

by unadulteratedstorycollector



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Married Couple, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-03 16:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12752145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unadulteratedstorycollector/pseuds/unadulteratedstorycollector
Summary: The kids are in bed, and it’s Christmas eve. There’s really only one thing for them to do.





	Obnoxiously Loud, Obnoxiously Cautious

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the wonderful mods for running this fest! I appreciate how much work goes into it. Thank you. Thank you to my brilliant beta J. You’re a fucking legend. Enchanted_jae, I hope you like this story! I tried to make it lovely and fluffy for you! Merry Christmas.

The tree is orange. Not the actual tree, obviously, but the decorations. And not just orange, there are some red ones, too. And a weird sort of bronze. And silver. Orange and red and bronze and silver. On a Christmas tree. Harry crosses one arm over his chest and scratches at his beard. When he was single, years ago, too many years ago, his tree was… well, basically non-existent until Hermione complained at him. And then it was a mess of whatever decorations he could find left in the shops two days before Christmas. If he’d been told then that, one day, he would have an orange tree he would have laughed. Loudly.

The living room door shuts behind him with a soft click, and a moment later his husband’s arms slide around his waist. He leans back, the solid weight of Draco warm against his back. He sighs, letting the familiar, soothing comfort flow over him, Draco grounding him, calming him, in a way that no one thought would ever be possible. Draco rests his chin on Harry’s shoulder and Harry smiles.

“Our tree looks like Halloween threw up on it,” he grumbles quietly with no real anger behind it. Draco huffs, his grips tightening around Harry.

“It's classy, Potter. I don't expect you to understand. You have no taste.” His voice is a soft rumble in Harry’s ear, his stubble scratching delightfully against Harry’s neck. Tilting his head so that Draco can mouth against the sensitive skin where his beard stops, Harry smiles. He closes his eyes and runs his hand along Draco’s arms, his chest aching and his head dizzy with love.

“That's Potter-Malfoy to you. And I have it on very good authority that I have excellent taste,” he breathes, running one hand through Draco’s hair, feeling the short, silky strands tickling his fingers.

“In men. Not in decor,” Draco mutters into his neck, nipping a little at the skin and drawing a deep rumbling moan from the back of Harry’s throat. Draco’s arms tighten further, and his tongue runs a line along Harry’s pulse point. Harry must have done something really good today, to deserve a randomly horny husband.

“I picked our bed,” he reminds Draco, his brain too fuzzy for the words to register in his own mind. Draco shakes his head a little, his mouth moving to where Harry’s neck slopes under his shirt collar.

“No, I picked our bed. You just agreed to it. And that was only because, and I quote, ‘the bed posts will be excellent to tie you to’.” His words roll through Harry as images of the Draco tied to the bed, naked and writhing as Harry took his cock deep flood Harry’s mind. His hips rock involuntarily and Draco moves one hand to keep them in place.

“And I was right. They are,” Harry points out as Draco undoes the buttons of his shirt with talented fingers. 

“Hmm…” Draco hums, pressing Harry’s arse back into him. There’s a definite bulge digging into the cleft of Harry’s arse and Harry’s cock answers, swelling uncomfortably in his jeans. Right. If Draco is in the mood, and he’s clearly in the mood, there is no way Harry isn’t going to majorly capitalise on it. He pushes back his hips, grinding his arse into Draco’s erection, the groan that rumbles from Draco confirmation that yes, it is definitely his erection. Tightening his grip on Draco’s hair he arches into Draco’s hand as the last few buttons of his shirt are undone.

“You know, the kids are probably asleep. I could transfigure my ties again…” Harry suggests and Draco freezes, his grip loosening and his mouth leaving Harry’s shoulder. Harry frowns spinning around and wrapping his arms around Draco’s neck, pulling him closer.

“No. The last time we tried that, Cassi threw up everywhere and Teddy tried to get into the bedroom. Never again.” Draco stares into his eyes pointedly and Harry sighs. That was a bit shit. It had been a mad scramble and a night of fever and vomit and tears. Not fun.

“Shame.” Harry shrugs, pulling his husband closer so that their noses rub together. He can feel Draco’s breath on his lips, warm and damp and unbelievably sexy. Harry licks his lip, his heart racing as Draco’s eyes follow the movement. He tips his head backwards, his lips ghosting over Draco’s and Draco surges forwards. Leaning into the kiss, Harry opens his mouth, his tongue sliding against Draco’s. Draco’s arms pull him close, his hands splayed on Harry’s back, his waist, his arse. The kiss is messy, all teeth and tongue and spit, Draco’s stubble scratching against Harry’s beard. Shifting his hip, he lines his cock up against Draco’s their hips rocking together, pleasure running through him. After a moment he pulls back, the two of them panting together, and watches as Draco opens lust blown eyes, his lips pink and full and bee-stung. Harry hums, leaning his forehead against Draco’s. “They probably won't come downstairs…” he whispers and Draco grins at him. 

They move quickly and with an efficiency that being together for fifteen years will bring. Harry’s socks are flung into the corner, his jeans shucked, his pants pulled off and chucked somewhere, his shirt sliding off his shoulders, and by the time he’s done Draco is naked. He watches as Draco looks at him, greedy eyes roaming over Harry’s body as he strokes at his cock. Just a little bigger than Harry’s, straight and flushed pink. Harry’s knows it better than his own. Knows the trail of honey coloured hair that leads from Draco’s belly button to the small mass of curls at the base of his cock. Knows the way his foreskin stretches. Knows that there’s a tiny mole on the underside, near the vein that Harry likes to lick. 

“Do you want to…?” Harry asks, trailing off when Draco raises an eyebrow and lowers himself onto the sofa, his legs wide and his feet propped on the edge of it. His hand trails down between his legs, stroking softly at his hole and Harry’s cock twitches. Fuck. Yes. Harry collapses onto the floor in front of Draco, bending to steal a chaste kiss before trailing kisses down his body. Draco tastes like honey. He always tastes like honey. Everything about him is sweet and rich and Harry will never ever get enough of it.

Knocking Draco’s hand out of the way, he licks a long stripe along Draco’s cock, sucking the end of it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the head as Draco buck beneath him, the sweet tang of pre-come bursting on his tongue. Before Draco can move to run his fingers through Harry’s hair, Harry releases Draco’s cock with a pop and moves lower, lapping at his balls, soft hairs tickling his nose. He glances up through his eyelashes to watch Draco as Draco rocks, pressing his shoulders into the back of the sofa, his eyes clenched shut and his lip between his teeth to stop himself from crying out.

Smirking, Harry moves lower, his tongue flicking over Draco’s exposed hole, and Draco moans, deep but quiet. Fuck that. Harry takes a deep breath before blowing gently on Draco’s hole, making the other man shudder, but remain silent. Frowning, Harry grabs Draco’s arse cheeks, spreading them wide and laving at his hole. Draco writhes, choked groans coming from where he is now biting on a cushion. A very expensive cushion that his mother gave to them. Oh well. That’s nearly as good as a moan. Harry hardens his tongue, poking at the furled skin, sighing as he feels the muscles relax around him. He hums into Draco, letting the vibrations tickle at Draco’s hole, revelling in the flutter of the muscles. Next to him Draco’s toes start clenching and Harry knows that Draco needs more. Knows it like he knows himself. Like he’s seen Draco’s toes curl that way a thousand times before. 

Releasing one cheek, Harry holds out his hand and wordlessly Accios a bottle of lube that they keep on a high shelf hidden behind a book on advanced History of Magic. It flies to his hand and he leans back, letting Draco take a break from wriggling and biting, to lube up his fingers. Sitting back on his heels, he brushes a long line along Draco’s crack, before pressing a finger to Draco’s hole, watching as the muscles contract and relax, swallowing the tip of Harry’s finger. Draco bucks again, holding onto the back of the sofa, his knuckles going white and Harry smirks. He slides his finger into Draco in one fluid motion, watching his husband, eye flickering between the pink flush spreading across Draco’s cheeks, and the pink muscles pulsing around his finger.

He bends down again, sliding another finger in next to the first, and licking at where Draco’s hole is stretched deliciously around his fingers. The lube covers the taste of Draco, musky and, obviously, sweet, and Harry frowns. They need to get some new lube. He starts to scissor his fingers, stretching Draco, preparing him for Harry’s cock. Harry’s cock which is currently protesting at not being touched by leaking onto their Persian carpet. He growls, spitting onto his fingers and licking the lube away, searching for the taste of his husband.

“You need to start fucking me now, or I’m not going to the Weasley’s for Christmas lunch,” Draco spits, his hips rocking onto Harry’s fingers, clearly searching for more and Harry sits up again, smirking down at Draco.

“Talking about my family is not going to make this go any faster.” He wiggles his eyebrows and Draco glares at him before pushing down onto Harry’s fingers in a particularly violent thrust. Harry moans, slipping his fingers out and rubbing lube onto his cock. Draco smiles smugly at him and raises his knees a little more, stretching his back and neck as he gets comfortable on the edge of the sofa.

This is Harry’s favourite bit. Well, one of. The moment when Draco is waiting for him to press his cock into Draco’s hole. To stretch him wide and fill him up. Draco’s eyes always flash a little dangerously, his chin tilting up ever so slightly. He’s beautiful and dishevelled and all Harry’s. Forever. There’s paperwork to prove it. He takes a deep breath, lining his cock up to Draco’s hole and pushing gently. He breathes out slowly, clenching his eyes as the muscles squeeze around his cock. Years of practice have made it possible not to come immediately when he sinks into Draco.

Heat and pressure and the slick sound of lube washes over Harry, until he’s finally seated in his husband. He opens his eyes, looking down at where Draco is smirking up at him, a bead of sweat travelling down his temple. He looks fucking debauched, so completely different to how he normally looks. This look is just for Harry. And he loves it.

Draco gazes up at him, nodding slightly, and Harry starts to move, thrusting into Draco, his toes tingling and his fingers numb. Hooking Draco’s legs in the crook of his arms he rolls his hips, watching as his cock disappears into Draco. Draco’s hand snakes down his chest and he starts rubbing at his own cock, his fingers long and slender and Harry can’t help the moan that escapes his mouth. Muscles clench around his cock and Draco clenches his eyes, biting so hard on his lip Harry is sure there will be a bruise. No. Not good. Draco makes the most beautiful sounds when they fuck, soft and deep and rolling. He needs to be making noises.

Harry picks up the pace, moving his hands to angle Draco, his hands rubbing at Draco’s arse cheeks and Draco grabs the pillow again. Harry growls, rocking his hip, hitting the spot in Draco that he knows drives him made, the room filled with the filthy sound of skin slapping against skin. Draco’s legs clench, trapping Harry and he throws the pillow to the side.

“You’re being obnoxiously loud,” he pants, scowling up at Harry and Harry laughs, setting Draco’s feet back on the sofa so that he can lean over and press a soft kiss to Draco’s abused lips.

“You’re being obnoxiously cautious,” he retorts against Draco’s mouth and Draco huffs, the air puffing against Harry’s skin.

“I’m trying to not wake our children!” Draco’s voice is full of indignation, even as he whispers is and Harry laughs, kissing Draco’s nose before kneeling up and taking Draco’s legs again.

“And I’m trying to give you an orgasm.” He grins, thrusting his hips in and Draco moans, delightfully loudly. Draco shoots him a glare before smirking back, shaking his head slightly and pushing onto Harry’s cock. Harry gasps, and Draco raises an eyebrow in challenge. Fuck, Harry loves his husband. He starts to move, pounding in earnest, his heart racing and his spine tingling. Draco mewls under him, arching away from the sofa and digging his feet into the small of Harry’s back.

“You need to hurry,” Draco moans, twisting as Harry pumps. Harry pulls a face, tilting his hip slightly to rub against Draco’s prostate.

“Me?! You’re the one who takes forever to—”

“Ok, shh… just move faster,” Draco cries, his hand a blur on his cock, his eyes shut, his chest gleaming with sweat. Harry scoffs, a smirk playing on the corner of his lips, and starts pounding, his fingers digging into the hard flesh of Draco’s hip. His balls start to tighten and he grunts, chasing Draco’s orgasm. The muscles in Draco’s stomach and chest start to ripple and Harry knows it’s coming, he’s coming, a second before he does. Thick strips of spunk land on Draco’s chest, white and creamy and Harry lets go, his hips juddering as he finishes. He looks down at Draco’s spent face, and gives him a wicked smile, just as his orgasm crashes through him.

“Wait ‘til my father hears about this!” he shouts, as he comes inside Draco, his body shaking, his head spinning, his limbs heavy. When the last drop of come fills Draco’s passage, Harry flops forward, resting his head on Draco’s chest and breathing hard. Draco gives him a playful shove and he slides off, his cock leaving Draco and the cool air of the living room making him shiver. He falls onto the sofa next to Draco, and Draco glares at him, the effect somewhat ruined by the look of bliss and post-orgasm glow that he has.

“I’m going to kill Weasley… I don’t care what sort of competition you have with him, shouting ridiculous things when you come is not attractive,” he mutters and Harry chuckles, resting his arm on Draco’s leg and casually rubbing at his hole, feeling his own come dripping out of Draco. Draco shuffles, moving his arse away from Harry and resting his head in Harry’s lap so that Harry can play with his hair instead. 

“Hmm… fun though,” Harry softly smiles down at Draco, watching as his husband closes his eyes, looking somehow younger in this moment just before sleep. He’s stunning. Stunning in a way that he should have been at school if he hadn’t been living with an mad man.

“So you keep saying.” The words trickle from Draco’s mouth and Harry can’t help but curve his back painfully to kiss him. Draco kisses back, barely awake and Harry nuzzles his nose a little before leaning back on the sofa and closing his eyes. Sticky darkness and soothing warmth rushes over his as he drifts away. They won’t sleep here all night. They’re naked and dirty and their kids will be down here in a few hours demanding presents. The thought makes his chest hurt and his stomach churn with love and he tangles his fingers with Draco’s.

“Hey, Draco…” he mumbles, their grandfather clock chiming gently in the hallway.

“Yes, Harry?” Draco breathes, his head sleep heavy in Harry’s lap.

“Merry Christmas.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are seen, read and loved!


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